From @ToobaFazalani: A loner she was & a talented one. Had her way with words. Nobody could deny. Her stories pulled you in, as if you were the one living them, but nobody knew hers. She was a mystery to everyone. Today, she sat with a pen and paper. The world was gonna live through her life.
From @RealFartShady: "Mrs Macon, our customer service is our biggest merit." Sean explained. "What??...That’s sort of a...aberrant tagline for a toilet paper merchandiser, plus it sounds sort of gross." Mrs Macon advised shyly. "Hahahaha We don’t come and wipe your butt or something." Sean made it clear. Mrs Macon chuckled with him. Sean added "But we do offer informational videoconferencing!"
From @Gods_Evangelos: The audacity of that person was worth appreciating. He had taken the step to bring about the change in this world. He was aware about all the laws. He knew this could lead to various problems on a personal note. He anyhow managed to get those signatures within time and happily went behind the bars.
From @Wankatesh: BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Her heart beat fast and loud. Her hands trembled as she opened her eyes and looked at the pregnancy test kit. The blotting paper under the results window showed a single bar. A negative result. Her entire body felt like it was about to explode. She hated spending summer vacation at Grandpa’s.
From @moonsez: She pulled open the drawer & took out a fresh sheet. As she put the paper on the table a tear rolled out and fell on it. The blank paper absorbed it all. She felt no need to write any more.
From @kaloladeep: The most important meeting of his life has gone into the shit. 20 Minutes ago he was ready, Pit Stop,he thought. He sat on the toilet and took a deep breathe, saying"just relax", When he was done, he went searching for toilet paper. Gone, He sat there helpless,as the minutes ticked away.
From @IndianIdle: There was Complete chaos. Thousands of people wandering without a clue of where they were going. There was blood,tears and bodies,everywhere. The people who loved each other, turned against each other. Hatred was oozing.History was drowning. All beacuse of a peice of a paper. They called this one "Declaration of independence".
From @dimaagi_keeda: The year was 1934, Rajaraman saved every naya paisa he had for a trip to the land of the rising sun. He wanted to explore a new form of Art a bit more. On his return, he went to his wife and held up a paper rose in front of her and said “ORIGAMI”
From @gauravjagwani: He always had the content, the material. He just could never get it down on paper. He struggled and tried many times. All in vain. His ideas were right. He knew people would enjoy it. If only he could get it down on paper. Finally, he did. His friends and him enjoyed smoking that joint.
From @theslumdawg: I was a dumb student. Whenever i use to get less mark in an exam, I use to make Paperplane's of the mark sheet & make them fly in class. Even Now, Whenever i get time i make paperplane's and make them fly. It makes me HAPPY! :D
From @sumitrai100: I went to a papershop and bought a newspaper."Engineering results out.60% failed in Drawing paper".I went home and started my laptop. I had failed in two papers.Katrina was smiling on my wallpaper.Bitch! God how would I paper over this problem.My life was now a blank paper.
From @sohamsabnis: Paper says sorry to Trees, sorry Paper for being cruel. I share hate relationship with paper, loved by all people at work. I destroy Evidences! Feels sad to cut paper, but yes I do it with finesse. Evenly cut strips are dumped, but must be used kids for BEST from WASTE.
From @kunalbaidmehta: It was his fourth attempt. He tried his best but still found it difficult to manage it. He tried using various books, surfed the Internet to get tips to improve, even asked friends for help and guidance, but the result would just be the same. He never knew writing a love letter would be so difficult.
From @wekneweachother: I was staying at a hotel in Tokyo. I couldn’t sleep. You faxed me these silly doodles you made at work. I loved you. I’m sending these to you after a lifetime of unrequited love. I wrote some crazy prose around those doodles while I was there. Consider them my postcards from Tokyo. Take care.
From @chota_chatri: He wanted to write, smell paper while doing so. All this typing, autocorrects, spell checks felt so artificial. the joy of writing was lost somewhere. he needed to make mistakes, erase them and feel liberated, like a child again.
From @featheringhigh She’d never had much to say. How could she, the world was always too far. Then he came, pleading, his destiny was waiting. It had to be her, no one else. A couple of words and then in torrents she gushed. It wasn’t just his destiny, it was hers too. It began when they met.
From @roshd: They found a suicide note near the body which said no one should be blamed for her death and that she was very sorry to leave me and go. The Sub-Inspector asked me to identify her handwriting. I nodded in confirmation. It was my hobby since childhood. Handwriting imitation. Forgery is too harsh a word.
From @dinkypinkybrain: “Special? Crap meat with fish soup aunty”, said Raju, eager to get to the next table. “Died pepsi, if you don't want child bear.” “Hot, try sweat and salt soup.” His encouraging voice suggested. My best friend of three year, he knew the starter would always be, vegetable salt and paper.
From @Sanchi_N: I am fragile, I tear. You fill me with your thoughts. I know your deepest, darkest secrets. I don’t judge. You’re tears are absorbed by me. You keep me locked up in a box and take me out when you’re lonely. I am your best friend and our relationship goes beyond words.
From @OhTeri_: Spotless, it begins its journey. Some scribble, some leave their impressions. Some try to erase, but fail. Some prick it, some make it frail. Some fight, try to own it. While some, just throw it away. Some get burned and some relive. Similar are the stories. A fresh paper and a new born's heart !
From @Jaaachudail: Wrinkled, it lay in the old table, filled with words written in the finest of hands by her Father. A beautiful drawing underneath the text, made it all the more beautiful. A serene field with a solitary house. Whatever made this piece of paper alluring was the yellowness. And hence the saying, old is gold.
From @_Nehu: "She had lost herself in daily chores playing different roles of wife, bahu, beti, maid and a sex toy. She tried to explain him so many times but he does not care. It’s been more than a year, with lots of courage she sends him Divorce Paper to find her identity back."
From @breezybeer: I submitted my exam paper and came out. Studious visages sacred me. Everyone, except me had written their papers with zeal. "How was the paper?" asked one. "Brilliant. Full marks." replied other. "Damn! No question was from our textbook!" Another one said. "We have a textbook???? o_O" And they laughed at me.
From @KonfusedKhopadi : "..Using paper made from wood leads to deforestation ,which inturn is leading to soil erosion, affecting agriculture . This is also one of the reasons for global warming and ... " a boy was writing this on a paper made in a similar fashion .Who is to be blamed ?
From @Oven_Tikka: She threw her head back and laughed. A throaty, full-bodied laugh that rang through the empty room. Her usually plaited hair lay on her like an ebony shroud, separating her from everything else. Gasping for breath she finally stopped. That was when the tears came. Rivulets of despair that melted the letter in her hand.
From @Life_ambiguous: Raghav felt her warmth, breathed in her scent. He felt her lips giving her away to him. He wanted to wipe her perspiring palms as he felt her hands slipping from his. He couldn't. She was living in the paper he held, with her kiss, her sweat and her tears that had blurred her handwriting.
From @tunnvi: Paper planes. Paper cuts. Paper art. Paper charts. Paper dosa. Rolling paper. Paper mache. Paper cutter. Paper napkins. Paper lanterns. Paper folding. Paper flowers. Paper plates. Paper shredders. Newspapers. Paper masks. Paper dolls. Paper boats. Paper fans. Paper trails. Paper houses. Paper kites. Paper cups. Paperback. Paper tubes. It all starts with that one Paper.
From @vagabondinact: He ignored the cynics around. He ignored his parents’ pleadings. He believed he could change the world and set out to do exactly that. He dreamt and he strived. Exams passed, trainings concluded, posting done, beliefs retained. Times flew, hair grayed, belief had not become faith and he had remained, but only a Paper pusher.
From @EatTweetBlog: He sat down at his table, with a plain piece of paper and a bottle of poison. He was determined to take his life away, put an end to all his misery. He thought of everything he has been through. Moments later, he took a deep breath and scribbled 'I WILL SURVIVE'
From @narinderkapur: The best use of a paper, he thought, was to make airplanes. Make them, blow them, throw them and watch them fly gloriously to the person it’s aimed at, or in to the near wastebasket. Used to conceal notes as well, he mused, as he slowly aimed his Spitfire at the back of her head.
From @eternalscrewup: A few years ago, if I had come across this topic I would have taken out a sheet of paper, sat down and pondered big time. Today I just took out my phone, opened google docs and pondered for a similar length of time. Life has indeed become very ironical since I have grown up.
From @BoozeSexSundry: A crumpled paper. His last words. 'I'm not gonna let the man I love go off to some war.' she had said. But he made her see the bigger picture. Hope was contagious. His words held her. 'I'd come back, like the rains always do. It snows sometimes too. Or maybe just like a dew.'
From @xmanishaa: He was unaware of her love for him, the way he departed from the book, from a piece of paper, into her heart was unbelievable. She saw herself growing old with him. Then she decided. She would read that book again in a few years. She was in love with a fictional character.
From @quratzafar: Time ceases to exist. Memories flash by, happy memories, marriage, their son, love, their passion, and their fights and then, like she is holding sand in her hands, they slip away. It’s over. She can’t believe it, but it is. The proof lies in her hand: a bloody piece of paper culminating their marriage forever.
From @shivangiyadav: She gazed as the heavens opened. Once she had loved rains. The colony kids would get-together, splashing in puddles. The siblings loved making paper-boats and charting their imaginary voyages. In their limited lives, they were happy. Now they had everything but happiness. How she wished for a magical paper boat that could take her back.
From @Chaitanya_13: His blood boiled whenever he saw a tree being axed. He knew that the world needed paper even in this age of digital media. He started recycling paper and soon made a business out of it. He now is a happy man knowing that his job is saving trees and making him a fortune simultaneously.
From @whimsytales: He used to carry it everywhere and it wasn't even a toy. It was a memory of a lady who meant the world to this boy. A five year long relationship, blessed with a million moments spent together. Now that piece of 8x10 paper is the
closest he can get to his mother.
From @JeeveSobs: "Aaj ki taza khabar!", shouts the young lad on our street. He tells me later on about how he tries to learn english reading the discarded newspapers. There were big dreams in his eyes. I couldn’t face him much longer, not with the book in my hand, torn up, coz I was bored of studying.
From @pbkulkarni: You know my roots, don’t you? “Cai Lun” from China invented me for documenting the history. But today I am extensively and exhaustively used endangering my roots and the Earth ultimately. Don’t just save tigers, because there are only few left, but save their homes too. Save paper. Save my roots. Save the Earth.
From @thebongbabe: Rishan had waited for months to ask her out. Yet all he could now do was watch as Nikhil swept her away from under his nose. He knew they had played fair and square –with the winner getting to ask her to the college socials first. Unfortunately, he had always sucked at ‘rock, paper, scissors’.
From @sahilk: This summer, I’ll be interning at Arab News. When I went for my interview, they were just settling into a new office. The freshly painted gleaming white walls said so. And almost everyone was in a gleaming white robe as well. No sign of a contrasting black. No female reporter. Should I be working there?
From @caramelwings: This is my life. He wrote his feelings down on me, but I was too late before I reached her. A kid found me, folded me all over and launched me in the air. Oh! Sweet flight. I got lost again, only to find myself sailing and disintegrating as a boat in a muddy gutter.
From @ChicnManiac: I told you my deepest secret. I trusted you! You went outside the room and told everyone. Why can’t you stay in your limits? You’re weaker than I thought, especially when alone. Just like me. Now you must experience what I’m going through. Lay under the heaviness. Oh paper, why did you have to fly?
From @sshweta93: The days seemed claustrophobic, suffocating him with obligations. The nights were when he was liberated. For it was at night, when he wrote. The clean sheets of paper screamed to him, their need to be penned with words, bittersweet. The paper was his outlet; his temple. The pen would guide him. He felt impassioned, alive.
From @tweettabulous: He was always her closest friend, shared her darkest secrets. Like a married couple vowed to be together in sickness and health. He was frail but supported her always. His calm, non-judging and soothing persona is what kept the love between her and her box of tissue alive, forever.
From @artistexpress: “I did not cheat on you”, he said in a convincing tone. “Of course you did!”, she asserted. “I did not!”, he screamed. She handed him a pen and a paper and ordered him to write those very words he uttered. All he could manage to do was ink the paper with a dot.
From @anushreekejriwa: She enjoyed doing craft and was blessed with magical fingers. She could give life to papers by giving them shapes and quill beautiful patterns out of it. After the emotional breakdown she found solace in these pieces of paper; like them she molded and adapted herself to the changes around in order to survive.
From @AbhiandNow: A lost soul was fiddling with the wind-chime that hung over his table; the cool breeze, ruffling his hair, accompanied it. As the moonlight crawled through the windowsill, he opened his eyes clasping a fountain pen whose nib was pecking the blank page from a diary. It was the time to create a new world.
From @JestChill: He sighed."Ae Ramu, aiyan avijao dhikra. jo, I told you yesterday ke everyday you must read, to improve your language. You want to be made fun of? Mara servant nu son you are that's why am telling you. Jo, now read to me. Take today's paper." Slyly hiding the fact that he couldn't read.
From @bziB: He had eyes just for her, impervious to the joy around him. “You belong to me now”, he said. “Really?” she countered. “Well, you do”, he insisted, adamant. She hid her face in his neck, not wanting him to see her grin, “And I thought our commitment had more significance than the paper legitimizing it”.
From @rohandroid: It was their 10th anniversary. The first one that he remembered
though. He bought an expensive rock for her. The one that she always wanted. At the dinner table he asked for her left hand. Instead she nodded in disagreement, put her right hand forward and handed him over the divorce papers. Paper beats rock.
From @Sychlops: He'd been missing for months now. Not a trace of him anywhere. "It's boring. I beat you everytime !": Rock complained.."And I never win now. I loved shredding him to pieces" : Scissors sighed. "We miss him". Tears streamed down their faces. In other news, the last remaining Tree on Earth had been sawed down.
From @Marwaari: She looked gorgeous today. What's happening to me, I wondered. A tap on the shoulder , "Concentrate" The lady said and went ahead. After some time we moved out of the hall, She came towards me with her lovely smile and asked, "How was your paper?" My first crush was at my board examination.
From @karan_jain: Three bodies were lying on the floor only about a couple of feet from each other.There were no traces of any blood.The trail had run cold.The entire apartment was cleaned and wiped out for finger-prints.The safe was in-tact. The only clue was the Origami Paper Swan on the desk.
From @Aarom_Ramsey: A lifetime of memories, the joy of childhood, eagerness of a school boy and a glint of happiness flitted through his eyes as he made each fold. “Make one with pockets, daddy!” the boy before him demanded and all he did was smile. His father had made such paper boats for him.
From @MissCandyFlaws: They two fell in love in the most expected way. A train journey to Doon, a conversation, 8 months of courtship and they took the next step without giving a second thought. It’s been 5 years. Now they meet twice a month but just for some paper-work & legal formalities. The ‘forever’ didn’t last longer.
From @lady_shweta: "Hon, you've wasted 50 sheets of paper to write a story about paper. These crumpled papers now look like distorted art of origami. There are thousands of stories being created every moment. There is even a story about you and me. Do you think, every story is written on paper?"
From @khatteemithi: A paper cut. Insignificant in the surrounding vastness yet a throbbing pain. Pain .. the only remnant that he was for real. Reality bites just like the sudden paper cut. The paper remained blank soaked in the salt. She pressed her lips to her finger hoping for the pain to recede, the blood to stop flowing.
From @themodestninja: He had ten rupees in his pocket, wind in his hair, nothing in his belly and a smile on his face when a man bumped into him. The stranger began apologizing, but he was already on his way to the store. The stranger walked away. A pickpocket had made a young boy starve that day.
From @upasana232: He sent her a love letter.She accepted it.A wedding card was sent out.After the wedding her husband found the letter.She told him,its a loveless marriage as he still is the man of her dreams.Another paper ensured she got who she wanted.Divorce agreement.
From @purplebrains: The poet moaned and turned over on his deathbed. His eyed his legacy; reams of thickened paper, bequeathed to his patrons. As the clergyman distributed these to the public, peace spread through the poet's dying body. He knew now that he would never cease to exist. The soul lives on forever, if only on paper.
From @thebigdowg: Once upon a time, there was a man who fought for those who couldn't fight for themselves. He was their unshakable hope, and he didn't fail. He lead them to freedom. Today, nobody remembers him except when they visit a bank/ATM and find his face printed on thin pieces of paper.
From @catpricious: After the last fold to the left she looked at her paper plane happily for exactly ten seconds before he crushed his little sister's toy he had helped to make. These were feeble dreams, he knew, wanted her to know too. Suddenly fuming, she followed him to his room to throw away his toy cars.
From @ChhotaRecharge: Born and raised in Bihar, she was totally mesmerized by the glitzy arrangements at JW Marriott! She was already in love with the city, until the incident which shook her up completely. "Ammaji aapko pata hai, waha sandaas mei paper se kaam chalate hai." was the only memory of Mumbai she took back with her!
From @JediKhare: "The army moved categorically and quickly. Chasing down and damage-controlling what could be the biggest faux pas of the kingdom in history. And ahead of them, one man ran over hills and trudged through forests, knowing fully well that the packet he carried with strokes of paint saying "Papyrus" on it could get him killed."
They gathered to decide the future of the Army.
"His annual reports are excellent, good in paper-work and is a pleasant personality."
"But sir, he's just a paper tiger! He even feigned illness during the recent ops!"
"Doesn't matter, higher ranks need paper skills."
That's how they decided the 'future'.
From @abi_da: Cursing at the clock, she thought to herself, "He is late, again." She took out her phone and starts typing furiously. Came the prompt reply, "Reaching soon." He used the word 'soon'. His definition of 'soon' is something else. She took out her notebook and starts to scribble. His face appeared eventually, on the paper.
From @shakti_man: He stayed up all night to study for his paper next day. The next day, when he recieved the paper he started crying. The examiner asked him if he forgot to bring his stationery or didnt study for the exam! To which he replied "Fuck off you asshole, I brought chits of wrong subject!".
From @nimue_ : "Its just a pile of papers" he screamed throwing them on the floor. She picked each one of them and stacked it neatly on the desk again. Their marriage was a sinking ship, but all she bothered for were the last drawings of their dead son.She knew the same words caused the suicide.
From @aaroo4: Plain or ruled, thin or thick, I gently hold you in my hands leaning on a book. Sometimes I Pick up a pencil, or a pretty pen. I start the first letter and then words just seem to flow, like a river racing towards the ocean. How I love writing, them letters to my friend..
From @bitchwanti: His heart leaped with joy. The all-too familiar fragrance tickled his nose. Arthritic fingers reached out to hear it rustle. Strong fingers gripped the old ones and twisted them painfully. Slowly his eyes opened. The writer was now a prisoner of war. The withered hands traced words on the grey walls. Paper was now money.
From @MystiquePai: Pick a book. Put your nose in it and inhale the smell of fresh words dancing. Run your fingers over the spine; let it skim over the crisp paper as you turn over a leaf. Shut the book in the knowledge that you've just experienced something unique. Now you realize why I don't read ebooks?
From @DayaDarwazaTodo: When you’re alone, scared, weak and bruised. When your spirit is broken, tears have dried, dreams have been shattered and confidence wrecked. When your peace of mind is lost and you don’t remember the last time you looked yourself in the eye, take a blank piece of and drown in it, for it judges not.
From @tanyachopra08: She thought she'd be fine. One step,few weeks, a month. The girl who always laughed it off, cried, remembering every word he said, every line he wrote . Every day a new page,she loved to turn. But it was time now. To close this book. Yes,She was in love. He was a writer.
From @insane_insan: After she breathed her last,all that remained with him was a piece of paper clutched into her hands which read," I always loved you and no one else.Trust me.".He dropped the knife and caressed her face with with his blood filled hands.Tears rolling down his eyes onto the paper erasing her last words forever.
From @captaintoon: She’s fast climbing the corporate-ladder, he's yet to find his first job. Lonely,she waited for his calls, he's too broke. Then he called. He'd a news. She did too. "You first" he said. "I met someone else.".... the world went silent. A paper slipped from his hands, his appointment-letter.
From @akshayabansal: Tiny scraps of paper can change one's life, ask the bloke who had been driving a bus all his life. Nothing extraordinary ever happened as he took lefts and rights. But he believed lady luck would change his plight. He picked the winning ticket one night, pity, death had other plans for him that night.
From @randomWhiz: It rustles in my hand, what do I use it for right now? A paper plane to amuse the kid? Or a funny story to amuse myself? No, I thought. This paper will attend to more than just my whims. "This is how you write A" I told the child with the big hungry eyes.
From @abstractions_: Everyone in family was ready at stroke of 10am and adjusted themselves in sofa's occupying centre of the living room as silent spectator. Chaterjee, the lawyer, opened the envelope and started reading.15 minutes later Rahul had wet eyes, that small piece of paper, will of late Mr. Basu made him owner of home library.
From @KarishmaRawat: “This is what they used to write on, before the catastrophe.” the teacher said. Moksha ogled at the smooth white surface with black letters transcribed. Fascinated. His hands grazed wistfully over the exquisite material, and in his mind he fancied pouring his unruly thoughts on it.
From @_abeyaar_: Amit was riding back home. Cursing his wife for having spoilt his holiday. "She's such a spoil sport," he snapped. Bad grammar and omen. A piece of paper - a pamphlet probably - appeared from thin-air and clammed to his face. Wham, bam, clash. Thank you Mr. Litterer, Amit now is nowhere. No more.
From @Ajinkye: She would visit his shop to buy bunch of drawing papers. He'd put a love letter in that bunch. They never spoke with each other. It continued until she got married. "I came here to meet you. Buying papers was just an excuse" She said. "Atleast you have opened & seen them..." He said.
From @irrationalnumb: He visited the parliament to conduct an honesty examination. “Only the honest will see what’s written on this magical paper”. Everyone was asked to record what they read. He died that evening. “Everyone’s honest. They all read the sentence ‘I can’t see anything’”, the newspaper said next day. A blank sheet of paper drifted somewhere.
From @theghostwriterr: Even a Piece of paper can convey emotions and feelings like the warmest Hug. Especially when you leave that paper at unexpected places for your spouse saying, “No matter what, I shall love you, coz you aren’t the most important person in my world but you are my World to me, ILU”
From @freelosopher: His friend had died instantly. He carefully wrote the note by memory, crumpled it lightly, rubbed dry mud over it, folded and unfolded the
paper several times till it looked sufficiently old and smudged it with his friend's dried blood. The deception complete, Captain Hunt placed the paper with the deceased General Archer's belongings.
From @sarcogenic: 2:00 am. Bhusawal station. Drenched empty roads. She stepped out, into a puddle. Her tears mingled with the raindrops. Her red stilettos. Her precious stilettos. Fuck him, she said as she turned back. And there he was, killer smile and all. Relieved, she fell into him, like paper to flame.
From @_PWN: A writer can let imagination run wild and put on paper the journeys to the unreal magical places visited only in dreams. Her dreams were too dark to write though. She tried once. The paper bled.
From @RadhikaMohandas: You know when you’re writing a name in your notebook without realising what you’re doing? He saw that. He saw his name decorated with swirls and dotted underneath. This paper would make it for the archives, he said. It did, like she found out when they gave her his burnt wallet to identify his corpse.
From @YearofRat: A boy floats his paper boat in the rivulets of rain. "Do you know how it is made?," a man asked, sitting down next to the boy. Kid kept looking at the water, while the man spoke nonstop. 25 years later, the kid still hated that man for telling him how paper is made. Sigh.
From @BadaBoomTheory: In the yellow light, her face shone with a warm, gauzy glow. She lowered herself closer to the mirror. Gently, her gaze travelled her face. From the brown eyes, to the hook of her nose, to the swollen lips. A fresh scar, just below the lower lip. The mark of a lover on used parchment.
From @SugarsNSpice: Imaginations wrecked a confused brain. A silent paper sat to tell its own pain. Dripping ink from the feathers await a beginning no one ever saw. An insane babbler wondered what to give to the destiny of times. Then some magic worked. Words played a different game to scribble in vain. A classic was written.
From @the__fellow: It was late as he headed back home with the setting sun behind him. His shadow like a reflection of his predicament stretched out long and dark in front of him. He stopped at the newsstand as he always did to pick up his paper. “As always!” he thought to himself and smiled thinly.
From @parekhit: Memories flowed through her mind endlessly, her wrist bled. She took heavy breaths, the last few for her and her unborn baby. She had no regrets, deep within only satisfaction. She had no one to tell her story- only a piece of paper!
From @Dee_tard: Guilt flooded him as his fingers traced the purple-craters he had put on her soft-sandy skin, highlighted by the golden streams now peeping through the drapes. Her body was his paper and with his fists he wrote. All the demons from his past, all the disappointments of his failed career, line by line he etched.
From @ritukarthik: Jot down the number he said. Call me. She smiled, such a flutter running through her heart. Noted the digits on her blackberry. Smiling, dreaming of a life with him... And then, her phone crashed and she lost all her data. Only if she had a her moleskine, the clear crisp paper. If only.
From @meetumeetu: “A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, there lived a species which fought against the digital age. They used their digits dexterously to hold an implement that marked thin, flat surfaces – to put their thoughts down or to make images or to humor their imagination,” said my grandchildren to their grandchildren.
From @textuallyhorny: Paper, ink and he formed a mystique love triangle. Ink misunderstood him often and he never trusted the papers. They fly, they spread, they never keep secrets. Thus was this mad poet, artist and author. The police found a suicide note beside his corpse that morning. “This page is intentionally left blank”, it read.
From @iamdevb: Apart from that one piece of paper there was no proof of his existence. In a fit of rage, she made sure that everything went up in smoke, but now repented. Somehow one sheet survived, and with a wry smile she read his first love letter to her.